


one fine day

by tagteamme



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Keith makes an appearance, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, SHIRO/KEITH/SHIRO, Threesome, me watching Voltron for the 900th time: wow that holodeck creates some awfully tangible holograms, me watching Voltron for the first time: wow that holodeck creates some awfully tangible holograms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagteamme/pseuds/tagteamme
Summary: Shiro and Keith get tasked with repairing things in their current ship while the team is planet-bound. The holodeck is one of them.“We’ve made a couple of changes,” The hologram says, quirking a smile over Keith’s shoulder to where Shiro’s standing. Keith thinks it’s eerily reminiscent of Shiro and then catches himself, remembering that this is Shiro. “Something we think you might like.”“Yeah?” Keith looks at Shiro, the real Shiro, and sees a faint flush dust across the man’s face. “We?”“Technically just me,” Shiro says, and scratches the back of his head. He looks a little unsure now, but Keith’s interest is more than piqued. “Though since there’s two of me now, I guess it’s a we.”





	one fine day

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to live up to my username!

It starts out relatively innocent.

They’ve been left behind on babysitting duty; specifically, they have to babysit each other. Keith and Shiro had gotten banged around rather badly on their last mission, so they’ve been ordered to stay put for the next three cycles while the rest of the team goes and makes nice on the planet that they’ve just saved. To appease them, they’ve been ordered to run a series of tests on the Olkari ship they’ve been graciously gifted. It’s small enough that they can finish it, but big enough that it’ll keep them occupied. 

The holodeck is a little better than the one that they had on the castleship, in and of that it’s not over ten millennia old. It’s in almost perfect working order but needs a couple of tweaks so that the default language of any of their holograms isn’t Olkari. It’s a quick fix, one that Shiro and Keith hammer out a lot faster than anticipated, leaving them with some extra time to mess around.

The first thing they do is create a hologram of Coran. He stored an excessive amount of information in the database, enough for them to create an apparition of him that chases them around the holodeck, trying to get them to partake in the ancient Altean tradition of shaving a stripe down the centre of their hair. The hologram manifests a razor, and Keith really doesn’t want to figure out how tangible these holograms are. He knows the one on the castleship had been as good as having whatever real thing was there, but he’s not about to go bald in his quest for knowledge.

Shiro finally shuts down the hologram with a laugh before conjuring up another one, this time of a Kaltenecker that speaks in a husky low baritone. She rolls out a couple of flirtatious lines that are _so_ terrible that Keith realizes that Shiro’s programmed her with Lance’s personality. It becomes clearer when she starts bickering with Keith and sucking up to Shiro and by the time Shiro finally turns her off, Keith’s pretty sure he won’t ever be able to look Lance in the face again. 

They go through a Hunk that sings in an operatic voice and a Pidge that looks oddly like a barbarian. Shiro even manages to program what is approximately the worst southern drawl into a hologram of Allura in her royal finery. Her voice is grating, and the more Keith protests in between choked out laughter, the more pronounced Shiro makes it.

Eventually Keith can’t take it anymore, and he ditches Shiro to go run a diagnostics test on a new series of translation devices Hunk and Pidge have put together. It’s interesting work, especially since he hasn’t had a chance to really play with the systems yet, and Keith gets lost in it for a while. It takes up a good chunk of an hour and he’s so immersed in it that he almost doesn’t hear Shiro buzz him on the tiny tablet he’s got propped beside the computers.

“Hey,” Keith swipes open the call to see two Shiros waving back. He ends the call, terminates the program he was working on, and pushes his chair back from the table.

The holodeck is an eight minute walk away from where Keith is. He makes it in five.

 

 

* * *

 

“You didn’t keep the white hair?” Keith asks, and Shiro shrugs. 

“I miss this look,” He says, and Keith gives him a small smile.

The hologram version of Shiro stands in front of him him, arms crossed over it’s - _his_ \- chest as it looks at Keith with one raised eyebrow and a smile. This hologram has the same Olkari-Altean hybrid arm as Shiro, is dressed in the same black get up. The only thing different is that his hair’s back to black with only his bangs streaked white.

“This looks almost real,” Keith comments, and the hologram speaks.

“I _am_ real,” The hologram says, and the timbre of his voice matches the deep richness of Shiro’s perfectly. It makes Keith stand up a little straighter, and both the Shiros in front of him catch it and grin. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I guess,” Keith squints. “So I guess you’re…”

“Shiro,” The hologram confirms. “A version of him, anyways. Whatever parts of his personality he wanted to upload into the programming.” 

Keith casts a sideways glance to Shiro, and Shiro’s got a very self-satisfied look on his face that indicates that he may or may not be up to something. Whatever that something is, Keith’s pretty sure that the hologram knows as well. 

“Touch me,” The hologram holds out a hand. “It’ll feel real.”

“It’s supposed to,” Keith says, but gets an inkling that that’s not the purpose of this exercise. He steps forward and places a palm against the hologram’s hand. The hologram circles his fingers around Keith, and there’s a faint buzz of electricity around him. It makes Keith’s hair raise slightly, but it’s tangible, feels human, and emanates a soft green glow.

“I know what you like too,” The hologram says easily, and before Keith can ask what he means, there’s a clatter in the distance.

The three of them freeze. Keith finds himself getting yanked up against a solid body and spun around so that he’s hidden from the door. It’s an old habit of Shiro’s and Keith’s pretty sure that there’s never not going to be a time when the two of them act like two kids sneaking around during class. There’s a buzz behind him and the other Shiro blinks out of existence, just as the door to the holodeck opens.

And closes.

And opens again.

“I think it’s malfunctioning,” Keith cranes his head out to the side to watch the door open and close again repeatedly. “We can turn the hologram back on, right?” 

Shiro laughs, leans in and pecks Keith on the lips. Keith frowns and tries to wrap his arms around Shiro’s neck, tries to keep him in one place.

“What’s so funny?” Keith demands, wearing his best put-out expression. It’s hard because Shiro looks relaxed and happy and generally amused, and Keith’s trying hard not to smile at his energy. “Hey, kiss me again." 

“We should fix the door first,” Shiro says, keeping his arms around Keith. “Just incase the team comes back early.”

“They’re not due back for a _long_ time,” Keith insists, but Shiro’s already pulling away. “Come back here.”

“Mmhm,” Shiro hums, and proceeds to ignore him.

 

* * *

 

Keith worries just a little that Shiro’s going to forget, or Shiro’s going to want to move on and recreate someone else on the holodeck. He doesn’t want to be selfish, but the weight and the physical authenticity of the palm he had touched has been lingering in the back of Keith’s mind, and he can’t help but wonder just how far that realism extends. Keith thinks about it when they go to bed that night, thinks about it when Shiro slides a rough palm underneath his shirt and hauls Keith on top of him. 

He can’t stop thinking about it when they slot their hips together, when Shiro urges Keith to move against him and kisses him, sloppy and wet. Keith’s thought about it before, how it’d feel to have an extra pair of hands on him. It didn’t appeal to him much but now– now he thinks about those hands belonging to Shiro as well, wonders how it’d feel to be closed in on by two identical bodies.

The image of it comes to him like a holy vision and Keith comes harder, louder than the situation calls for. Shiro doesn't miss it. He tries to ask what Keith’s thinking about, but the last thing Keith wants to do is verbalize it out loud so he starts kissing a path down the hard ridges of Shiro’s stomach. By the time he wraps his mouth around Shiro, Shiro’s lost the ability to articulate himself and Keith’s lost in the weight and taste of Shiro.

But Shiro knows Keith like the back of his hand, maybe better than he knows himself.

That’s why the following night, instead of going back to their quarters after they finish their work, Shiro herds Keith back to the holodeck with a hand between his shoulders. Keith asks what Shiro has planned, but it becomes clear when a familiar figure stands in front of him once again.

“We’ve made a couple of changes,” The hologram says, quirking a smile over Keith’s shoulder to where Shiro’s standing. Keith thinks it’s eerily reminiscent of Shiro and then catches himself, remembering that this _is_ Shiro. “Something we think you might like.”

“Yeah?” Keith looks at Shiro, the real Shiro, and sees a faint flush dust across the man’s face. “We?”

“Technically just me,” Shiro says, and scratches the back of his head. He looks a little unsure now, but Keith’s interest is more than piqued. “Though since there’s two of me now, I guess it’s a we.”

Keith wonders why he thinks he can ever hide anything from Shiro, especially when it comes to his wants. He steps forward towards the hologram and squints— there’s no faint green glow whatsoever this time, meaning Shiro’s _really_ refined this version of himself.

He moves in closer and raises his hand, gently cupping the hologram’s cheek. The skin is warm underneath his palm and Keith presses a thumb against the seam of his mouth. The lip underneath is as plush and soft as the real thing, but when the hologram exhales, there’s a distinct lack of warm air. Keith doesn’t have time to think about it because the Shiro in front of him bares his teeth for Keith, and Keith runs the pad of his finger over the edges.

“These are a little sharper than I remember,” He murmurs, and the hologram bites down gently on his thumb.

“It’s whatever you like it to be,” He says, grinning, and Keith feels a hand on his waist. It’s possessive and no matter how much Keith grows, Shiro will always feel large against him.

“Easy,” Shiro says from behind him, drawing Keith up against his chest.

The hologram follows, and Keith’s face starts to flush lightly. For all intents and purposes, the hologram version of Shiro feels _real._  He’s got the weight, the heat, even the faint smell of soap that always lingers around Shiro. But the real Shiro is shifting directly behind him, encircling him with a protective arm as he keeps an eye on the Shiro in front of Keith.

Keith’s thumb slides into the other Shiro’s mouth, and it’s wet and warm as that Shiro hollows his cheeks. Keith leans back onto a broad chest but keeps his hand anchored. A thick thigh pushes itself forward, wedging in between Keith’s legs. The real Shiro spreads his so that the back of Keith’s thighs can rest against the top of his, and Keith realizes that the hand around him isn’t protective. It’s sacrificial, offering Keith up to the man in front of him, and it’s making Keith’s legs go weak.

“Feels real?” Shiro asks softly from behind him, and Keith nods. The Shiro in front of him grins and lets Keith’s finger drop from his mouth before he leans in and presses his lips against Keith. “That’s it, babe.”

It _feels_ real.

Both of them are holding onto Keith loosely enough that if he wants, he can slip out. But he doesn’t— he wants to stay here, enveloped in warmth between two muscular bodies. He feels the hand around his middle slide up and circle his neck, tipping his chin enough that the kiss deepens while the man kissing him rests his hands on Keith’s waist.

The tongue pressing into his mouth is slick and heavy and licking like it knows exactly what it’s doing; Keith’s guessing that if this is a Shiro that’s programmed right, then it does.

“Good boy,” The praise comes as Keith feels his bottom lip get nipped by sharp teeth.

He makes a sound and finds himself getting kissed even harder. He slides his own hand over the one around his neck, and feels the grip around his throat squeeze enough for his eyes to roll back. It pulls, breaking off the kiss, and Keith makes a sound of protest but he finds his jaw getting tipped to the side as the real Shiro closes his mouth over Keith’s.

Keith goes openly, thoroughly, as a trail of wet kisses make their way down his neck, biting and soothing at familiar pressure points. He shifts down against the thigh he’s hitched up on, feeling the drag of his pants between his own skin and a hard surface, and Keith thinks that this is it.

This is how he dies.

 

* * *

 

Keith’s had a dream like this once. Everywhere he had turned, there had been a Shiro eager to put hands on him, eager to use him and please him equally. It had been a good dream, a great dream even. 

It’s nothing compared to the real thing— the fact that there’s a real thing at _all_ sets Keith’s head spinning off its axis. No dream compares to being sandwiched between two solid, large bodies, especially when they are both the man he loves. _Especially_ when Keith’s on the floor of the holodeck, propped up on one Shiro’s lap as the other one’s going down so deep on him that his nose is pressed till it creases against Keith’s lower belly.

The thick, slick fingers curled in him press down again to make him louder, and Keith digs his fingers harder into the black hair of the head moving on top of him. His pants hang off one leg and his shirt’s rucked up to his collarbones as the Shiro behind him runs his palm over Keith’s chest, tweaking and pinching and whispering soft praises into Keith’s ear.

“Fuck,” He swears as the wet heat around him gets tighter. “Shit, Shiro–”

Both of the Shiros give a pleasant rumble that reverberates through Keith’s body at two different points. He scrunches his eyes shut so that he doesn’t get overwhelmed, but there’s a loud moan around where he’s sensitive and Keith doesn’t think he’s going to last long this way. He’s got to hold on though, because Shiro’s told him that this isn’t the final act and Keith wants to be good for him. For both versions of him.

Keith groans and tries to move in the warm mouth, but the hands on his hips hold him down, keeping him in place.

“Behave,” Shiro whispers into his ear, biting the lobe gently before kissing a trail down Keith’s neck. “We’ll give you what you want.”

Keith presses his heels into the ground and rocks, trying to squirm down against Shiro’s hand. He needs it _now_ _—_ the sight, the feel, the headiness of having two Shiros is getting to him fast. Keith doesn’t know if he’d classify what he feels as being overwhelmed, but he doesn’t know if this is a situation he can classify at all.

Whenever it’s Shiro giving it to Keith, he likes to make sure Keith is prepared well. Even when they’re in a rush, even if Keith’s clawing at him with desperation, Shiro likes to make Keith as wet and pliant as possible before he delivers at a toe-curling pace.

It’s why when Keith got pushed to the floor, Shiro had already pulled out a bottle of slick he had tucked in his pocket in anticipation. It’s why this time, Shiro’s going to extra lengths to ensure that Keith’s loose and comfortable the way he likes.

When Keith’s worked open enough, he tries to reach behind himself and unzip Shiro’s pants. The dark-haired Shiro grabs his wrist and grins as he shakes his head, and Keith finds himself getting manhandled by four large hands until he’s on his back. His shirt’s riding uncomfortably high, but someone pulls it off for him and throws it off to the side. They rest Keith’s head in the real Shiro’s lap as the other one crawls on top of him, pushing Keith’s legs apart as he slicks himself up.

“That’s good baby,” Both of the Shiros soothe as one pushes slowly into Keith and the other brackets Keith’s head with his arms. “Feels real?” 

Keith mouth hangs open in a silent moan. His heart’s threatening to beat straight out his chest in the best way possible and he tries to take a deep breath in as he grips onto the strong forearms on either side of him.

“Fuck- Feels real,” Keith catches himself, tries to rock down onto Shiro’s lap. The velvet weight and the way it stretches Keith open is the same, and Keith can see both Shiros looming over him, watching with matching satisfied expressions as Keith slowly takes it in.

“He’s gonna get you nice and loose for me,” One Shiro purrs as the other one gives a short, slow thrust. “Gonna make you feel good, just the way we like it.”

Keith can only answer in a soft whimper. He’s more turned on than he thinks he’s ever been in his life. Being held by Shiro, feeling him both against him and in him— Keith thinks he’s died and has ascended to another plane, a plane where only good things exist and he’s getting fucked on the floor of a holodeck by two versions of the same man. 

The Shiro on top of him grinds in further while the real Shiro leans down to kiss Keith gently on the mouth as Keith gets adjusted. He moves out of the way once the sounds Keith makes are laced with more pleasure than discomfort, allowing the other Shiro to dip his head in.

“More?” He asks, brushing his lips gently against Keith’s, and Keith nods. He hooks a leg around this Shiro’s hips and tries to sling an arm around his shoulders, but he finds his wrists getting drawn back and held steady.

“Not until I say so,” The command comes and it’s easy to follow because the next thrust sends Keith shifting up Shiro’s lap and keening. “There we go. Good boy.”

The words have Keith’s toes curling, and he hiccups as the man in him starts moving in earnest. There’s too much heat radiating in between the three bodies, but Keith can’t bring himself to care because he’s getting fucked into at an angle that has him gritting his teeth.

Hands hold onto his hips in a bruising grip, and he can feel the drag of Shiro’s pants against his back as he gets moved further and further up his lap. Keith lets out a short shout when the other Shiro re-angles himself, and he suddenly feels two fingers press insistently against Keith’s mouth.

Obediently, he opens his mouth and finds it getting filled. He sucks gently and feels the soft moan Shiro lets out vibrate low behind him. The hand that had been used to open him up slides down his belly and circles around him, still slick as it alternates between squeezing and pulling him off in long, slow strokes.

“So good for us,” Shiro purrs as the Shiro moving in Keith picks up the pace. “You’re going to feel so good on me after this.”

Keith’s legs fall further apart at the praise and he preens as he feels muscular thighs sear against the back of his own. The hand around him moves faster, fast enough that he’s leaking and his legs are shaking. The Shiro on top of him leans down, skims his teeth over the tendon between Keith’s neck and shoulder, sending a sharp spike of lust down the entirety of Keith’s body.

Keith moans around the fingers in his mouth, lets his tongue lick them till there’s wetness trickling out the corners of his lips. He hollows his cheeks at a particularly hard thrust and lets the fingers press in deeper, giving them as much attention as he can. Keith’s so close that it almost hurts in the best way possible but he can’t tell Shiro because he’s so _full,_  but there’s no way Shiro can’t know, no way Shiro can’t tell with how wet Keith’s getting, trapped in between the two of them.

Keith’s eyes start to roll back and his back arches involuntarily. The sensation’s almost too much, and Keith tries to give a weak warning against the fingers in his mouth that he’s about to come. Shiro catches it, and the hand around Keith comes to a halt, slides down to Keith’s base and _squeezes_ , just as the other Shiro immediately stops moving in Keith _._

It cuts Keith short and punches the air out of his gut as he’s denied any sort of fulfillment. He cries out loud, and both Shiros grin down at him. Shiro slips out of him and Keith almost lets out a protest, but he finds himself getting hauled up by both of them before he can say anything. He hears the soft sound of a zipper moving behind him and the uncapping of a bottle. Dark-haired Shiro draws Keith onto his knees and cups Keith’s chin with his hand, pulling him into a slow kiss. Keith can’t feel the warm breath he’s so familiar with but the pressure is the same, distracting enough that he doesn’t realise he’s being lowered onto the real Shiro till he feels it.

“Don’t come until I say so,” Shiro says from behind him. Keith tries to twist but Shiro keeps him steady as he starts to guide Keith down. “Don’t come until you’re on me.”

The hologram was good, the hologram felt real. The hologram shuffles and draws closer till their chests are touching, so that Keith’s completely sandwiched between the two big bodies. But nothing can hold a candle to the way the real Shiro feels as he presses in. Keith was mistaken to ever think otherwise. The difference is pronounced but Keith can’t articulate it, so he says Shiro’s name, long and drawn out as he sinks down.

Shiro gives a satisfied grunt as he bottoms out easily in Keith. The Shiro in front of him leans forward to suck Keith’s bottom lip in between two teeth, drawing him into another heated kiss. Keith doesn’t need to adjust, tries to tell Shiro as much by lifting up a little before bringing himself down. He grinds down on Shiro’s lap, trying to feel the sharp bite of the zipper and the rough drag of the material of Shiro’s pants.

“Good?” both Shiros ask, and Keith’s almost drawn to the edge again purely from their voices. He nods, tries to angle his head so that he can peck the Shiro behind him on the cheek before he speaks.

“Move,” he says, and it comes out more demanding than he intends it to. It’s all for the better because Shiro gets a glint in his eye that’s downright dangerous.

Shiro wastes no time in setting a brutal pace; he doesn’t need to ease Keith into it, so he snaps his hips up, practically bouncing Keith on his lap. Keith’s gotten it hard before, loves it when Shiro takes him like Keith’s the only thing he’s ever thought about but _this_ _—_ this is on a whole new level.

Keith wraps his arms around the shoulders of the Shiro in front of him; warmth emanates off the solid muscle and it’s so, _so_ real. In a way, it is, because this is Shiro giving encouragement and praise to Keith just the way that Keith likes. It’s beyond any of Keith’s wildest dreams, and just the weight of the two bodies against his is enough to over stimulate him.

He buries his face further into skin and muffles his moans, feeling it echo through his bones as he tries to maintain some semblance of focus. It’s heat and pressure and Keith’s so full and enveloped that he doesn’t know if he remembers his own name. His world’s centered down on Shiro behind him relentlessly driving into him at such an unyielding pace that his whole body’s surrendered to it.

Shiro’s own teeth are as sharp as his hologram’s; Keith becomes acutely aware of this as they trail over Keith’s shoulder, playing with little nips and bites until they find the crook of his neck. The Shiro in front of him tugs back on his hair, baring Keith’s neck, and Keith feels the teeth sink in just as he’s sent upwards with a particularly hard thrust.

Keith yells and the noise is quickly swallowed up by a kiss that barely allows Keith to breathe, that wedges him in tighter between the two bodies. Keith’s over sensitive and overdrawn but he wants to remain like this for as long as he’s allowed. He’s lost any ability to do anything but get used, and Keith thinks he can live like this.

“That’s it baby,” Shiro says from behind him and Keith tries to gasp into the other Shiro’s mouth, tries to tell them both that he’s close again. He thinks they know, because he feels a sharp smile against his own lips before he can form any words. A large hand encircles him, gives him a long drawn out stroke before it reaches down to his base and squeezes, cutting Keith off so hard that he could _cry_. 

“As I said before,” the words come out teasing against his mouth, and the corners of Keith’s vision are starting to white out as he’s barely held back from tipping over the edge. “When we say so.” 

“Please,” Keith begs, sobs, digs his nails into sturdy shoulders. “Please, Shiro, I need, I need–”

“Not yet,” this time it’s repeated from behind him, and a sound tears from Keith’s throat that he hasn’t heard himself make before.

He curls his fingers tighter and feels the sharp sting of them growing sharper. His vision floods for a moment and his temperature starts to run hot, hotter than it was a few seconds ago. The teeth he’s sunk into his lip elongate just enough to pierce the skin and draw blood, and it’s when Keith tastes the iron in his mouth that the hand around him lets him go. This time, the Shiro in front of him slots his hips closer and takes both of them in hand and Keith chokes out at how real and heavy they feel pressed up against each other.

“Oh you look _beautiful_ like this,” Keith’s not sure where the praise comes from but he preens as he’s fucked into at a rapid pace, harder than he had gotten it before, harder than he’s ever gotten it before. 

The sounds that fall from him are progressively less human and the hand around him works him hard and fast. He scrunches his eyes shut and clings, unable and unwilling to do anything other than take and take and _take_. A hand from behind circles his neck and squeezes, forcing Keith to tip his head back. It grips tighter and Keith tries to angle, tries to ask for a kiss. He opens his eyes to plead for the contact when he sees Shiro, _his_ Shiro, flushed with a crooked smile, white hair plastered to his face like an angel.

The sight of it is enough to send Keith over the edge; his vision blows out and his voice goes hoarse as he comes, harder than he’s ever had before. It hits him like a tidal wave and for a moment he can’t breathe, no matter how sharp an inhale he takes. He tries to say Shiro’s name but it comes out wet, comes out broken and in pieces and Keith doesn’t think he’ll be coherent for a while.

Faintly, he registers Shiro holding him up as he rides out his own finish in Keith. He moves hard and fast against him but Keith’s legs are shaking so hard that he doesn’t register it till he feels a pulse, feels the warmth flood him. Someone cups his chin and pulls him into a languid kiss, and Keith’s too weak to do anything but let out soft noises into a warm mouth.

Slowly, Keith gets lifted off of Shiro. There’s a dull ache as he slides off, but there are two pairs of hands smoothing over his skin, whispering to him as they calm him and bring him down from his high. Keith makes a sound of discomfort and he immediately has two Shiros soothing him, kissing him gently on his jaw and his cheeks and the nape of his neck.

“Easy there,” Shiro leans forward and shifts Keith to the side so that they can angle their heads for a proper kiss. The hologram version of Shiro noses against Keith’s collarbone and slides a hand down between his thighs, wiping away some of the mess. Keith feels a hand squeeze the inside of his leg and start rubbing soothing circles into it, while another one cards through his hair and starts massaging his scalp.

Shiro’s already very attentive in bed but with two of him, Keith’s not sure he’s ever been this well taken care of. Being taken care of by two Shiros feels like a fever dream, and his mind’s already turning with the possibility of also being able to take care of two Shiros at a time. They both take turns kissing Keith and murmuring soft praises against his skin and Keith’s sure he must have died at one point earlier in the day because this feels _too_ good. 

Shiro waits till Keith’s breathing has evened and his body temperature has returned to normal before turning off the hologram. They lie on the debauched floor of the holodeck; they’ve made some effort of putting their pants back on, but it’s too hot and they’re too exhausted to bother putting on anything more. Keith knows that as soon as the team comes back, he’s not going to be able to step foot in this room for at least a week. He’s tucked himself into the corner of Shiro’s arm, close enough to use him as a pillow but not too close that the heat and sweat gets uncomfortable.

His mind’s still in a daze, and Keith doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get over this any time soon. It feels half like a dream, but he’s got a blissful ache over his entire body that tells him it wasn’t. He’s got a smattering of bruises from two sets of hands, and Keith’s going to will his body to hold onto them for as long as possible. He’s so caught up in his post-sex haze that he almost misses Shiro speaking. 

“What’s that?” He half slurs, lolling his head to give Shiro a lazy look. Shiro runs fingers through Keith’s hair and Keith lets out a content sound at it, closing his eyes.

“I said we should try it again before the team comes back,” Shiro says, his voice sounding as content as Keith feels. “Would be a shame not to.” 

“Agreed,” Keith replies, pushing his head up so that Shiro can give him a deeper scalp massage.

The pleasure of the touch rolls down through Keith’s body, all the way till the tip of his toes, and Keith’s sure he’s not going to be able to move for at least the next hour. They’ve still got a long laundry list of things they need to fix around the ship, but nothing pressing and urgent than can’t be pushed off till the next day. Their team will arrive late, right before their regular sleep cycle, and if they apply some small amount of focus, Keith’s sure they’ll be able to get their work done. 

Shiro’s fingers grow contemplative in his hair, and it takes little for Keith to notice that Shiro’s thinking about something. He’s not saying anything, but his eyes are narrowed, lost in thought. Keith rolls onto his stomach so that he can properly look at Shiro as he prods him.

“You’re thinking loudly,” he states, and Shiro looks down at him. 

“Yeah,” he agrees a lot more readily than Keith anticipated. “I was thinking about how it’d be if we did it with you.”

“With me?” Keith replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Shiro replies, and looks contemplative. “Or maybe two of you. Or three.”

“ _Three_?” Keith says almost incredulously and Shiro shoots him a grin.

“Or four,” Shiro supplies, and Keith snorts. “Or five.”

“What are you going to do with five versions of me?” Keith asks flatly, and Shiro hums, his smile widening. It almost looks wicked like this, and suddenly Keith’s thinking about multiple other versions of himself crawling over Shiro, doing their best to take care of him.

“I can think of a few things,” he says easily, and Keith groans and shoves at his shoulder, but doesn’t hide the fact that his interest is piqued.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me or throw rocks at me on [tumblr](http://phaltu.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/tagteamme)!!


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